In September 2007, Dale Goodson, David and Cindy White and I sat around a table in Berrien Springs, Michigan, pondering a crude map we had drawn of the Aramia River region and its Gogodala villages. Phase-two training was underway, and we had been studying how to strategically locate our work within our people group. Now our assignment was to prayerfully consider the options and choose the most advantageous place for a missionary presence.

We finally agreed that Kewa would be the best location. It is centrally located in Gogodala territory between Balimo and Kotale with convenient access to the Aramia River. Months later, God opened the way and provided a beautiful site and the resources to build a mission house. In March of this year, our family moved into our new house in Kewa.

I wondered how we were going to make inroads with the Kewa people. In past years, Kewa had strongly resisted any Adventist presence. Kewa is a stronghold of the ECP (Evangelical Church of Papua New Guinea). We encountered resistance in the form of land disputes when we started building the house. I was told that certain ECP leaders in Kewa were behind those who were giving us problems. However, God worked things out for the best. The land-dispute hearings gave me opportunities to meet village leaders. When the issues were resolved, we moved into the house. It still has bare stud walls and a plywood floor, and we haven’t yet installed the home-made kitchen cabinets, but to us it is home sweet home.

During our family worship one morning about two weeks after the move, Karin, who was missing her friends in Kotale, asked for prayer that God would give us opportunities to make friends with the people of Kewa.

After our worship, I went downstairs to get things prepared for the day’s work. It was going to be a big day. Extra workers were coming to help move gravel from the large bags on the riverbank up to our house for mixing concrete.

Before the men arrived, a canoe glided up to our landing. It was Angela. She and her husband Tom are charter members of the Adventist group meeting at Kewa. She brought news that her great uncle, Makewa, a devout Christian, had passed away the night before. She asked if I would speak at the funeral that morning.

“Will the funeral be at the ECP church?” I asked.

“No, it will probably be at his house,” she replied. She handed me a small school notebook containing Makewa’s last words, which she asked me to share at the funeral.

As soon as my workers arrived, I had Danny take me across the channel in the dinghy. In the village, I found a group of young men with shovels gathered in a front yard. This must be the place, I thought. As I approached, the young men called out to me that the funeral had moved to the ECP church, and I should go there. This will be interesting, I thought, a Seventh-day Adventist missionary doing a funeral in the Kewa ECP church! In the past, they had banned Adventists from entering their village, let alone speak in their church. This would be my first time to enter their finely kept structure.

I climbed the church steps to the back double doors. Inside the hall, about 150 people, mostly women and children, sat cross-legged on the wooden floor around a lidded box made from a dugout canoe. Flowers cascaded across a colorful tie-dyed cloth draped over this Gogodala-style casket. A man was speaking whom I presumed to be one of the ECP pastors. Tiptoeing reverently toward the front, I found a spot on the men’s side and sat down on the floor between a couple of elderly gentlemen.

After about 20 minutes, the speaker concluded his remarks and sat down. Another younger gentleman stepped to the front, looked in my direction and announced that the white missionary was now going to share some thoughts. I sent up a silent prayer, stood to my feet and moved to the table used as a lectern at the front. The young man shook my hand and introduced himself as Bob Keyana, the ECP church secretary. He said he would translate for me. I shared with the people some Bible texts of hope and Makewa’s last words. He had expressed his desire that his grandchildren love each other and do God’s work because time is very short and Jesus is coming soon.

When the service finished, a dear old man came over and gave me a hug. He told me he had worked as a pastor many years ago. He and Makewa had been good friends. He filled me in on some of the details of Makewa’s life. The pall bearers carried the casket out to the burial place, and the congregation followed. Bob walked with me, and we had a cordial conversation about Makewa’s life witness.

At the graveside, Angela, Sabayato (an Adventist lady) and I opened our hymnals and sang a couple hymns of comfort as the men lowered Makewa’s casket into the ground. Many people expressed appreciation for my coming.

As I returned home, I reflected that I had made some new friends that day. Then I remembered Karin’s prayer request that morning. For me, God had answered abundantly.

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